“No, no, I can’t; I can’t tell that.”
“Tell it, madame, tell it—I command you!”
It was the baron, who, quite beside himself, had broken out into a shrill command.
“He wishes it! He does!”
“Yes, yes.”
“I see—I see—blood,” said Madame Probasco, shuddering.
Drinkwater started back against the wall, though Mr. Cornelius seemed, if anything, relieved, whatever it may have been he was afraid to hear, for he said rather indifferently:
“Now, or in ze future?”
“In the future; but near, very near. Not your blood—no; it’s not on you, the blood—and yet, why it’s—”
Whatever she might have said was destined to remain a closed secret, for, at this moment, the outer door was flung open with a crash that shook the room and Inga’s voice was heard calling: